


Carnival Trick

by reona32



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 13:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13637487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reona32/pseuds/reona32
Summary: Illya takes a chance and is pleasantly surprised by the result.





	Carnival Trick

The first throw was a test, just to see how the game had been rigged. Illya meant the second throw. The tower of little wooden bottles clattered to the floor. Throw three and four took out the other two towers, leaving the table empty. The carnie operating the game goggled in astonishment. Illya blinked back calmly when the man looked at him. “And we have a winner!” the operator cried, not sounding too happy about it. “What will it be, mister?”

Illya looked at the colorful stuffed animals pinned to the walls and ceiling and pointed, “That one, please.” The carnie grabbed down the brown bear with the blue velvet bow tie and thrust it at Illya with ill grace. “Thank you,” Illya said, ignoring the carnie's glare. The blond joined the stream of people walking along the carnival's footpath. A Ferris wheel turned overhead and on the other side of the large field Illya could hear the screams of laughter from the people on the faster rides. After a couple minutes of searching, Illya found his partner slowly meandering his way through the arcade, munching a box of caramel corn. The blond paused, turning the teddy bear over and over in his hands for a long moment. He then hurried to join the other man. “Any contact?” Illya asked as he came alongside Napoleon.

“No. He's been playing skee ball for the last 10 minutes.” Napoleon gestured with the box of caramel corn toward a balding man wearing brown corduroys and an olive green jacket. Napoleon had been suitable horrified when they had first seen their quarry.

“Time to switch.” Illya plucked the food from Napoleon’s hands and thrust the stuffed toy into them. “Here. This is for you,” the Russian said and then slipped seamlessly away into the crowd as Napoleon blinked in confusion.

“What?” Napoleon asked no one. The bear’s fur was soft and plush and he rubbed at its ear in surprise. Napoleon then tucked it under his arm and left the arcade before he drew unwanted attention to himself.

About 20 minutes later, the exchange had happened in the busy, chaotic carnival and Uncle agents quickly apprehended the Thrush courier, the low level Thrush agent they had been following all evening, and the packet of dangerous and possibly lethal information the two had tried to pass between themselves. Illya saw that the bear was no longer in Napoleon’s possession, probably given away to the first woman that had smiled at the brunet, and Illya sighed in quiet disappointment. It had been an impulsive gesture. He didn't even know what he expected to come from it.

Illya saw the bear again about a month later, but, to his surprise, it wasn’t in the possession of some shapely lady. The bear was sitting on a chair in Napoleon’s living room. Illya blinked. He stood by the front door of his partner’s apartment, waiting for the other man to join him so they could leave for the airport for a mission. They were going to have to hurry if they wished to make their flight at this rate.

As if doubting his vision, Illya walked over and picked up the bear. He inspected it but it looked to be the same bear from the carnival. The same bear Illya had given to Napoleon as a small way to say how he felt, even if he knew it was pointless. “Be careful with Remington,” Napoleon said as he walked into the living room, making Illya start. “Don't muss his fur. He doesn't like to be untidy.” The brunet set his suitcase by the door and disappeared back down the hallway to the bedroom.

[Remington?] Illya mouthed to himself. He followed his partner down the hallway and found Napoleon contemplating a row of cufflinks. “You named it Remington?” Illya asked.

Napoleon glanced at him and then back at the tray of jewelry. “Of course. He looks like a Remington, don't you think?” He selected some cuff links, put them in a small silk bag, and put the bag in the open valise on his bed. Carefully rolled ties and a toiletry bag followed.

“I am surprised you kept it,” said Illya. Pleased, but still surprised.

Napoleon glanced at him again while he finished packing. “Of course I kept him. I always keep the gifts people give me. Especially those from people I actually care about.” He zipped up the bag. “Besides, Remington is good luck. He watches my apartment while I'm gone and makes sure everything is ok. Be sure and put him back on his chair, please.” He checked his watch, missing the transformation of Illya's face. “We better hurry if we want to catch our plane,” Napoleon said, lifting the valise. “Come o... Mmmm!” His surprised yip was muffled as Illya lunged up and pressed their lips together, throwing his arms around the American's waist. Napoleon dropped the valise and grabbed Illya's shoulders.

Illya was sure he was about to be shoved away; sure he had misjudged, that Napoleon keeping the teddy bear was not a sign that the brunet returned Illya's feelings. The Russian was sure that he'd just lost the only friend he had because of his inability to leave the status quo alone. An eternal heartbeat passed as Illya waited for the ax to drop but then Napoleon's mouth softened and his hands gentled on Illya's shoulders. Napoleon tilted his head to make the kiss deeper, his lips gently caressing. A shiver danced up Illya spine, warm joy unfolding in his heart. He never, never thought he could have had this. He thought the possibility of Napoleon being receptive to him was a wild and hopeless dream.

They shifted slightly and Napoleon's foot bumped the teddy bear, fallen from Illya's hands to the floor. Napoleon pulled away, opening his dancing brown eyes and smiling at Illya. “About time. I was beginning to wonder if you would ever try something.”

Illya eyebrows lifted. “You were waiting for me to act?”

“Of course. I couldn't, Illya. Think about how that would look to others. You are, technically, my subordinate.” Illya face's scrunched into a scowl and Napoleon darted in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Don't be like that. You know I don't see us like that. We are equals.” Illya face began to soften and Napoleon kissed his cheek. He caught sight of the clock. “We are also going to be late. You have horrible timing, my dear. We need to go.” Illya blinked as Napoleon pecked another kiss to his lips and then snatch up his valise and the teddy bear. He grabbed Illya’s hand and hauled him into the living room. “We will continue this another time.”

Illya knew he had a stupid grin on his face and did not care. “Ok,” he agreed. They made it to the front door. Napoleon released the blond, set his valise down by his suitcase, and then pulled the teddy bear from under his arm. Remington was gently placed back on his chair and Napoleon adjusted his blue velvet bow. “Now, keep a good watch on the place, Remington. I'll be back soon.” He stroked the toy’s soft ear with two fingers and then hurried back to the door. “Come on,” Napoleon said, picking up his cases. “If we hurry, we might still make it.”

Illya pulled the valise from Napoleon’s hand and stuck out his foot to block the door from opening. He leaned in for another kiss, which the brunet was only too happy to oblige him in. Illya opened his mouth and swept the tip of his tongue across Napoleon’s lips. The blond pulled away, his grin mischievous. “We are going to be very, very late indeed.”


End file.
